


Going Down On The Clown

by nihilBliss



Category: Hiveswap, Homestuck
Genre: Bulges and Nooks (Homestuck), Clown Dynamics, Clowns, Clumsy Sex, F/F, Fingerfucking, Fisting, Large Breasts, Oral Sex, Outdoor Sex, POV Female Character, POV Second Person, Post-Coital Cuddling, Sexual Humor, Sexy Clown, Size Difference, Size Kink, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Fisting, Xenophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-18
Updated: 2019-06-18
Packaged: 2020-05-14 05:42:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19266964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nihilBliss/pseuds/nihilBliss
Summary: Female!MSPA Reader, gay disaster, has sex with a ten-foot-tall clown alien. It's awkward at times, but by the end of the night, she might just be in love.Written for the Homestuck Renaissance Kinkmeme.





	Going Down On The Clown

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompt:**
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Lets be honest here: there is not enough content of Chahut in this world. I'm down for any sort of Chahut content in general but since I'm giving the prompt I want some steamy interspecies reader insert smut. Gender neutral or female reader preferred.

Chahut Maenad is by far the largest person you've ever seen, so her proportions shouldn't really be surprising. But all the same, for you, a gay disaster, caressing a breast substantially larger than your head is a hell of a trip. Her areola, a delicate purple against the gray of her skin, is the size of a saucer. You can't even fit the whole of it in your mouth, try as you might. That's not stopping you from trying, of course.

"You having fun down there, sugar?" She has you cradled to her bountiful chest, both of you nude as jaybirds under the twin moons. You tend to think of clowns as city-dwellers, but Chahut has brought you out to a little clearing about an hour from Outglut. Was it perhaps foolish to follow a clown who's beheaded trolls right in front of you into the middle of the woods? Potentially. But as noted, you are a gay disaster, and tiddy good.

"Yeah," you say, enjoying the cool of her skin. "Do you like how this feels?"

She caresses your head with a massive thumb, making a contented purring noise that reverberates through her rumble spheres and into your bones. You take that as a pretty clear yes and continue to suckle, reaching your hands to fondle as much of her breasts as you are able to touch. She holds your entire butt in the palm of one hand, and you would swear you feel her easing a finger between your legs. You spread your thighs and, yep, there she goes. Her finger tip slides along your vulva, massaging your lips. You've owned dildos thinner and shorter than her middle finger before. You grind your hips against her touch, wanting to see how much of it you can take. Goodness knows she's not getting anything else inside of you.

"I hope you didn't have your heart set on riding my bulge, because I don't think that's in the cards," she says. So it wasn't just you thinking that. "Although Messiahs know you would probably milk the life right out of me."

You flush. You're tempted to try, even if she'd split you in half. As she eases her finger inside of you, that sensation feels distinctly possible. You whine and cling to her pendulous boob. She's stretching you out, and though she's delicate about it, you're glad sucking her breast already has you dripping like a leaky faucet. That she could snap you like a twig helps too.

She croons and chirrs as you redouble your attention to her breast, which is a nice response to your attempts to keep yourself from moaning too loud. Not that there's much anyone could do to you if they found you with this beautiful woman, given her sheer muchness and also the massive axe laying next to your piled clothes. You bury as much troll boob in your mouth as you can as she slides her knuckle into you.

"Let me know if it gets to be too much," she says. You make a yes noise into her nipple and hope she gets your meaning. You figure you don't need both hands on her massive breasts, so you send one down to encourage her to go deeper. The thick digit bottoms out just past the second knuckle, and you hold it there.

"That the end?" Chahut asks. You nod, mouth still occupied. She wiggles her finger inside of you, probably the strangest thing that's ever happened to your pussy, though you're not one to complain about pleasure like a jerk. You stroke your clit, since you're already in the neighborhood.

There’s the magic, that lightning through your body that makes your walls clench around the muscular thing within them, makes its rough texture all the more intense against you. You squirm in Chahut’s grip, and she wraps her other arm around you to keep you stable, no matter how much you writhe. It’s the coziest you’ve ever felt while getting screwed by an alien, caught between Chahut's big, soft arms and her gigantic breasts. You want to take back every bad thing you ever said about Juggalos back on Earth; you are not just down with the clown, you are enthusiastically down with the clown. You want the clown to stay down with you, to keep you here, cool and close, and if at all possible, to keep touching you like this.

Speaking of things that shake your entire worldview, you’re pretty sure you black out for a second when you hit your first climax, because when you come back into yourself, you’re already on the cusp of another one. Furiously, you rub your nub, chasing it down with more than enough help. Your back arches, and you can’t keep Chahut’s breast in your mouth any more. Every groan and cry echoes off of the trees and into the dark of the forest. Chahut’s purring intensifies as you moan out another orgasm, happy that you’re finally making the noises she hoped to hear. She brings you through peak after peak, strong yet gentle.

“How close are you feeling, sugar?” she asks you, not slowing down. You give your clit a brief respite to hold up four fingers.

“Four times,” you say. “I’m on number fi-ahhhHHH!”

What lovely timing this clown has, helping you climax just as she’s asking. She's so polite while she's overloading your nerves with pleasure signals. You're torn between feeling very grounded in the physicality of the thunderstorm between your legs and retreating into void from sensations too strong to render. All this motion in your vagina and on your clit couldn't possibly fit in the little parts you have. Your cunt is bigger than the physical space it occupies, spilling over its boundaries and bleeding into the rest of your body. Chahut is fingering the whole of your being. You wrap your arms around her and bury your face in your breast, as the sensations melt what little of your mind remains.

Once this most recent climax starts to taper, you tap out. She pulls her finger out of you but doesn’t set you down, holding you close as your mind makes its slow return to your body. That’s for the best; there’s no way in whatever equates to hell in her alien clown religion that you’d be able to stand on your wobbly legs right now.

“Holy fuck,” you say. “Holy fuck. Just… holy fuck.”

She chuckles, deep and throaty.

“You really don’t drip much when you come, do you, sweet thing?” Chahut asks. It’s laughable from your perspective. You’re pretty sure you feel your slick running down the crack of your ass right now, and you’re no squirter.

“I guess,” you say. “Holy fuck.”

“You mentioned that,” she says. You laugh.

“You’re likely to make a lady say something silly and clingy with talk like that,” you say. “That was incredible.”

Chahut strokes your hair with the hand that isn’t supporting your ass. She knows her size and strength, and she knows how to be tender. You feel kind of amazed she looked your way, much less took a liking to your tiny, pale body.

“Then why don’t I say it first, sugar?” she says. “You’re a beautiful creature, and I am so flushed for you right now.”

Flushed? Right, troll love.

“You too,” you say, trying not to drop the L-word and realizing it wouldn’t have the same gravity here so there’s no reason to hold back. “Love you too.”

She holds you against her chest and kisses you. You’re glad she sets her facepaint; you’d be a mess if she didn’t.

Alright, fine, it’s too late for you to not be a mess, with how much you just came and the ruined nature of the makeup you shoplifted and put on special for her - it’s embarrassing that this galaxy-conquering society hasn’t invented waterproof mascara. And frankly, the sheer amount of tongue she’s putting into your mouth is getting you worked up all over again, tired as you may be. You wish you were up for getting head. But that does give you an idea all the same.

It's time to go down on the clown.

“That was so amazing,” you say. “Any way I can return the favor?”

“Aww, sugar, you don’t need to do that,” Chahut said. “It’d take more miracles than I’m willing to wait for to let you lift me.”

You snort a laugh.

“Okay, yeah, that’s real. But I can do something to help you feel like I felt.”

“You’re not riding my bulge,” she says, setting you down. Now you’re face to, well, writhing purple tentacle with it for the first time. And she’s right. You would be a fool to try to ride that beast. It’s longer than your forearm, and though the tip’s slender enough, you’re pretty sure it’s as big as your fist at the base. Growing up on a horse farm, you may have seen bigger appendages, but Chahut gives your dad’s breeding stallion a run for his money.

“Well I can give it a kiss, can’t I?” you ask, reaching out before she can answer. It’s slippery to the touch, but the purple-clear liquid that coats it clings to your skin. You plant your lips on it and come away with a string that any food blogger would dream of seeing on their pizza. Boy, you’re glad you’re giving oral sex to a beautiful woman and are totally not thinking about the thing wriggling in your hands, otherwise this could be really gross. Context is great!

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea either, sugar,” she says.

“What about your nook?” You say it with a mischievous grin on your face, gaze as smouldering as you can manage with your face streaked with black. She returns your grin, those orange fangs of hers somewhere between sexy and terrifying, and you know she gets your meaning.

“What about my nook?” she asks, widening her stance and rocking her hips toward you.

“Bet I could do something for that with my mouth,” you say, licking your lips and running a hand down her bulge. You slip your fingers between her chitinous outer plates, now well-retracted, and caress her soft folds. They’re cool, like the rest of her, but from the way her breath catches, you’re pretty sure you can stoke her proverbial fires.

“You wanna lay down for me, babe?” you ask. She nods, easing herself into the low grass, hands propping her torso up. Then, she spreads her legs, and you see the folds of her nook. They’re a darker purple than her nipples, darker than you would have guessed, and puffy, likely tumescent with arousal. You can’t help but drool as you crawl across the ground toward her. She lets her bulge wrap around her hand and holds it out of the way as you run your fingers along the troll equivalent of a vulva. It’s slippery-sticky, just like her bulge, and you suck your fingers clean. It’s similar to her bulge-slime, but a little more… savory is the only word that comes to mind, which is weird, but whatever.

“You’re delicious,” you say. It’s a shame she always wears her religious makeup so you can’t tell when she’s blushing, but there’s a faint purple at the top of her breasts that tells you what you need to know. With a smile, you dive in, licking and sucking and rubbing at everything you can get your hands on. There’s no clit to speak of, so you worship the exterior as best you can. You run your tongue and fingers up each side of each fold, careful not to miss a millimeter of her beauty. She smells nicer and nicer as you stimulate her, and it’s making your head spin a little. Gods, you love it.

She’s purring, too, but every once in a while, you catch a little chirr, a trill somewhere from higher in her throat. You slide a finger into her hole, and you brush something less yielding than her tender inner walls. She trills so hard she chirps, then goes wide-eyed and covers her mouth. That must be something like laughing so hard you snort for trolls, you think, or at least that’s what you would be thinking if the horny girl part of your brain currently running the show wasn’t screaming bingo and drowning out all else.

So you add another finger, then another, and they slide into Chahut’s nook easily. She trills and rocks her hips as you curl and uncurl your fingers, as if you’re beckoning her orgasm. She bites her lip and trills. To have this huge, gorgeous woman like this, responding to your touch, vulnerable, wonderful, as much yours as any troll could be, it’s a dream come true. The little gay disaster side of your brain is cackling with horny glee, and it’s pretty great. You’d probably be cackling for real if you weren’t busy burying your face in Chahut’s nook, but you’ve got your priorities right.

“You got any more to fill me up down there?” she asks. You add your pinkie, and the fit gets a little tighter, but nothing you’d consider a worry sign.

“That good?” you ask.

“I take more if you can give it,” she says.

“Oh, can you?” you ask, and you ease your thumb in. Her entire body rumbles with pleasure. You ease in more, little by little, until you feel the widest part of your hand slip into her, and she chirps again.

“Are you okay?” you ask.

“Messiahs slap me down,” she says, “because I am ascending to another plane and fixing to join the carnival dark.”

You take that as a yes. Slowly, delicately, you slide your hand the rest of the way in, cupping your fingers around that hard spot you found earlier. She chirps shamelessly now as you caress… oh! There’s two of them? Your fingers confirm your suspicions and find a second firm bulb inside of Chahut’s nook. She’s groaning and chirping as you stimulate that one, too, so you figure the more the merrier. and divide your fingers between both, cupping and caressing and tickling so much you almost forget to put your mouth back to her folds. Almost.

“Mercy, sugar, I’m not going to last long if you keep that up,” she manages between heaving breaths.

“Mhm,” you acknowledge, not leaving her folds to speak. You feel her bulge arch toward you, and you reach up with your free hand to caress its length, working it as you work her inner globes. She’s whining now, making sounds you’d never imagine from a creature this large. You drink it in, swallowing mouthful after mouthful of her lust.

Then, you incline yourself upwards, rubbing your face and chest along her bulge, using your whole upper body to stimulate her. Her hips rock wildly, and her arms shake so hard you can feel it through her globes. She’s chirring like wild, almost squeaking. You know you’re close. So you wrap your lips around the tip of her bulge and give it a nice, hard suck.

“Fuck!” she cries, and you brace yourself to swallow. But no amount of bracing could do you any good. A sound so deep you can’t hear it blasts through you as something viscous and wet fills and overflows your mouth. You fall backwards, bare ass hitting dirt, coughing and gasping, trying not to let your gag reflexes get the better of you as purple cum drips from your nose and mouth. It’s running down your chin and all over your chest and arms, too, you notice.

Chahut is still coming, whole tentacle bulge and nook spurting and oozing cup after cup of purple troll jizz all over her. You wipe your face off and rest a hand on her leg as her hips jerk.

“Wow,” you say. You’re not the only one painted purple. She’s covered from face to knees in troll cum, breathing heavily as it drips into her massive shock of hair. She turns to face you smiling as she pants.

“Yeah,” she says back to you. “Wow.”

“Do you, uh, usually squirt this much?” You feel indelicate asking as you crawl onto her belly.

“Oh, not that,” she says. “You look so beautiful in my color.”

Well what the fuck do you say to that? There isn’t much, so you bury your face in her cleavage and wrap your arms around her, further covering yourself in purple. To be fair, though, right now, there’s no color you’d rather be. Chahut slicks your hair back with her hand; it’s covered in cum, like everything else, and there’s nothing either of you can really do about that without an ablution trap, so it’s whatever.

“You enjoy that?”

You nod against her chest. She purrs, and you nuzzle her, about as peaceful as you can remember being on this planet.

“Mind if we lay here for a minute before heading back to town?” she asks. “I’m a might tired after that.”

“Mmm, that sounds lovely,” you say. She wraps her arms around you and holds you close. Under Alternia’s twin moons, everything looks unfamiliar and surreal, but here, in Chahut’s big, soft arms, you couldn’t feel more at home if you tried.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to LumenInFusco for her editorial insight.


End file.
